


Mystical Songstress

by Nezanie



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, petra and edelgard make a cute appearance, supportive manuela
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:08:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23477515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nezanie/pseuds/Nezanie
Summary: Garreg Mach Records/Academy AU. Dorothea prepares herself for a new life as a scholarship student surrounded by rich, pompous wannabes or so she thinks. The Black Eagles are a weird, excited bunch. Never had she fathomed she would eventually call them family shortly after this hectic orientation day and a surprising meet up with her class leader.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Mystical Songstress

**Author's Note:**

> https://twitter.com/gmrfanzine2020?s=09  
> A/N: In honor for the zine I am helping out (Link above), presenting to you; asmall snippet of our favourite songstress ready to face the world and fight for musical acclaim.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: please not this is just a personal headcanon and not at all indicative of the content that will be in the zine. This will be decided at a later stage when all mods have been chosen! Follow our blogs to get more info!!!!

It started with a chain of letters, the one she had hopelessly sent and this one staring menacingly at her. It threatened to make her or break her, when it concerned her future, at the very least. It was  _ The letter. _

Inside an opportunity of a lifetime worth more than anything she ever owned. Which wasn’t much, not even the bed Dorothea Arnault slept in held her name. It was worth more than her very person in Dorothea’s mind. Many begged to differ. 

The seal of the illustrious Garreg Mach Music Academy, the most elite musical academy within the country, with the affiliated Garreg Mach Records churning out high profile artists every year, the prospect of being rejected (or worse  _ chosen? _ ) nerve wracking enough to have her heart stop that instant. And she hadn’t broken it to see the contents yet. The eagle, the lion, the deer and the dragon at its centre all seemed rather menacing, scrupulous of her roots with those beady waxy, red eyes.

She fidgeted in the tiny chair of the musty office under the scrutiny of the head of Mittelfrank Orphanage, who coughed for her attention. “Dorothea?”

She shook her head rigorously, her speech stammered by excitement and dread, “I can’t...what of everyone, everything at the orphanage? If I’m chosen?” 

Her pessimism had already sealed her faith in her head, the confidence and brilliance she exhibited in the performances of their associated theatre, Mittelfrank Opera House, nowhere to be seen.  _ ‘It’s impossible, why is he smiling? There’s no way they’d pick me!’  _

It was easy to put on a mask when she needed it the most, right now, it crumbled into nothingness with all the emotions hammering away at her hard exterior shell of resilience she built.

“That is for me to trouble my head on,” the man chortled, his head hanging back so much that it bothering her, Dorothea was a little irked and would’ve said something it if it wasn’t for his next words, “Manuela said you would feel bad about this, her words mind you; ‘Dorothea is far too kind and needs a little push,”

He slipped a slim, plain letter on top of the prestigious envelope that possibly held the key to a future she, oh so,  _ desired _ . A part of her kept denying she could take in stride because it was a dream.

“Read this, and take your time. Nobody will force you into anything, girl,” he advised, waving at Dorothea and dismissing her with a few ‘shoo shoos’ and muttering something about youth.

There was no point in lingering there. Dorothea picked the envelopes recognizing the cursive, haphazard script of Manuela’s handwriting imagining how she scribbled her name apprehensively. She resigned to use up her little courage remaining, leaping off to her secret space. This being a small closet in the girl’s room she shared with ten other girls her age and a couple more much younger. As per the rules of the house, she plucked the ‘do not disturb’ sign leaving it dangling from the doorknob and sat down in a corner among the old, hole filled jackets and coats.

She didn’t know how long she stared at the seal, her eyes went a little wonky forcing her to pull away and rub them vigorously. Maybe she’d grown white hair in the meantime. With a sad excuse for a snort at the thought followed by a huff, her heart continued thundering in her chest as she snapped, snatching the envelope from its perch and sticking the knife she fetched from the kitchen in the side. Cutting it open was the easy part, reading it had her gulp for air, forgetting to breathe.

Her eyes scanned through the introduction from the principal Rhea, a former musician turned talented agent and ultimately headmistress, the very image of success in the world of rhythm and rhyme. The other content of the envelope was ignored.

Dorothea started nervously mumbling the contents to herself, raising her voice with the rapidly increasing momentum of her reading speed as she realised what the answer was.

“It is with great pleasure…,” she stifled a squeal, stomping her legs alternatively, dropping the letter on her lap with a crinkle - a private exhibition of excitement. Her head faced the ceiling as she tried to contain her volcanic burst of emotions. When she deemed she was calm enough to continue, she read on and stared at the single most important word.

_ Accepted. _ Of course she was. The letter was more of a package, she grabbed it emptying the remainder of the contents on the floor by her feet. Brochures, timetables, a letter of instructions with a Black eagle emblem greyed out in the background of the words - you name it, it was there welcoming her to the education she desired.

“I’m in, I really am in,” she whispered, barely believing what she could clearly see in front of her. She placed the acceptance letter, including the other important intructive papers and forms she’d need later on back into the envelope leaving the brochures and advertisements outside, all next to her feet.

Her hand was trembling as she grasped Manuela’s letter next. She needed the emotional support and probably Manuela had guessed that no matter the outcome Dorothea would appreciate her input.

She read the letter slowly this time, repeatedly, in her earnest jittery mood her mind was too mushy for anything to stick, the tender written words of her family and mentor slipped away so quickly it took her three tries before finally starting to process a single meaning within the lines. Eventually she managed to take enough from it to crumple up in herself, tiny droplets of her passionate feelings dousing the ink to smudge as she found the encouragement she needed within the sweet letter. Even so, unfortunately, joy soon turned to horrible realisation; her measly part time jobs wouldn’t be enough to afford going to the location let alone staying there and attending. How would she even pay? So she read and read trying not to think about it.

_ Dear Dotty, _

_ Congratulations on your acceptance, I knew you would make it. I’ve just been informed by Flayn (the headmistress secretary and our recording guru!) she sent out your very positive acceptance. I really do apologize for not keeping you updated, however, as your ex-mentor in Mittelfrank Opera House I wasn’t allowed to have a say in your application. Although, i was certainly allowed to put in a good word for you even if it meant jack squat compared to your music samples. _

_ A scholarship is an amazing feat to qualify for and having your talents recognized is nothing but wonderful and exhilarating... _

_ ‘Wait, scholarship?’ _ Dorothea dived for the envelope by her feet, rustling papers as she looked for a particular form. Her hands were so sweaty and shaking that made checking them one by one a difficult feat indeed and sure enough the last parchment (which slipped from her fingers and had her bonk her head with the closet wall) not only confirmed she was entitled to the scholarship package but that she was selected specifically for it. She’d be worked to the bone but school fees and dorms were paid for.

_ ‘Oh, oh, is this a dream?’  _ The mild headache from the hit told her otherwise. 

It’s not a dream,’ Manuela wrote, probably expecting her train of thought and was ready to derail it from its usual pessimistic stop,‘This is reality, Dorothea, grasp it with your own two hands,’

“Yours Lovingly, Manuela,” she said, tone low and cracking with love of an understudy and daughter. She was crumbling immediately into a fetal position and hugging her legs. She didn’t know how long she stayed in the closet after she stopped sobbing, she wasn’t even sure of what she ate at dinner time when she made it back downstairs. There was so much to do! So much to plan and pack! With a heavy heart, thinking about her siblings at the orphanage encouraging her to give it her all. Dorothea Arnault successfully enrolled at Garreg Mach Academy.

A few weeks later, she fondly waved goodbye from the bus to the children who could make it to her departure, the older kids were all working but the signed cards with her sibling’s kind words to push her, Dorothea was sure she could overcome every challenge. A small luggage with essentials in tow, she was ready to take on the music world!

Truthfully, she actually didn’t really have a lot to take with her, barely owned anything, and Manuela had offered to recommend her to someone that needed a part timer. She’d just have to manage with what little she had and hope there were cheap places to buy her basic needs.

At some point she must have dozed off, a sudden jolt from a sleeping policeman or hole in the road harshly woke her up. Dorothea had to quickly get off lest she missed her stop and simply didn’t have time to let her mind catch up with the amazing pressure the Academy gave off until she froze mid step to gape at the building.

“I can’t believe I’m here?” she squealed through gritted teeth, trying not to grin and twirl like a silly child on a trip to the amusement park.

Dorothea gazed at the front of the gate to the academy, it was a huge castle-like building with terrain that probably spanned a 1000 of her old orphaned if not even more. And the Mittelfrank opera house sponsored the place so it was one of the most modern, and larger edifices that could be found in her hometown. 

Her heart started pumping blood at a pace that made her feel dizzy with heat, excitement and the dread that was still a the back of her head. What if the rich brats pinpointed the one oddity in their class...again. 

‘No, don’t think about Dorothea, you’re older, wiser and definitely better equipped,’ she bit the inside of her lip. She’d use all her weapons to succeed. 

Her legs felt like jelly, she probably wouldn’t have moved if it wasn’t for a shove that sent her tripping forwards.

“Oh, have my apologies!” a surprised, anxious voice called out to her. Dorothea turned to the owner once she came to the spot.

The girl’s accent gave her away as a foreign student, her stutter probably due to the accident rather than the fact english was her second language.

“I may not have skill in english yet, please bear with me, I just learned a couple of months ago,” she explained, there were tattoos adorning her face and arms. The sleeves of her shirt rolled up, her jacket tied to her waist, she quickly leaned down to prop up Dorothea’s lone luggage instead of her own regiment of bags.

“That’s alright,” Dorothea beamed, swallowing her fears and returning the favor swiftly helping the girl gather her belongings. The suitcases she was pulling were ginormous.  _ ‘Pretty and smart, wow, she’s already this fluent,’ _

“I must be going to the Black Eagle House building too,” she smiled pointing to the letter of acceptance with the insignia of the class nearly scrunched up in Dorothea’s hands. She raised her own copy showing the very same emblem and map to the House she would pertain too, “I am surely joyful to have such a nice comrade for this next year,”

“Same here!” Dorothea chipped in, offering to pull the extra luggage, hers was not so bulky after all. She couldn’t help but note her new friend had beautiful, kind eyes.

“Petra, my name, it’s Petra,” she added, holding her hand out, “Shall we reconvene to the class with one another?”

“Dorothea, it would be my pleasure to accompany you,” Petra grinned as Dorothea took her hand in sign of friendship. She didn’t know that Dorothea was feeling the same, in a new environment away from home, loneliness had crept in their hearts and they were lucky enough to find each other. Certainly their friendship would blossom to sky high heights.

Petra was such a sweetie that hearing her talk about her home eased Dorothea's panic, her anxiety dissipating with every story the girl shared of her travels to Garreg Mach. She was native of Brigid, had always dreamed of bringing her culture and traditional music to Fodlan and Garreg Mach had provided the opportunity. 

Dorothea, who was attending the course to strengthen her vocal talents as well as songwriting, shared an instrument talent with Petra, the violin. Petra could also play many other instruments, some traditional of Brigid and others more classic of choice. Dorothea was amazed by her and vowed to make life as easy as possible to get used to for Petra, immediately warming up to the girl.

They had been so absorbed by one another, Dorothea didn’t realise she was walking straight into another rather imposing, obnoxiously in the way person until she bumped her nose into his back. She was just about to apologise when she sucked in a breath at the familiar voice calling out her name.

“D-Dorothea?” he seemed ata loss for words, for once in his life. He had always loved blathering even in their old school even as a kid. 

“Ferdie,” she greeted, icily, almost couldn’t keep the bite out of her tone off when she recovered from her shock. To her dismay, his hand was on the door of the building they were supposed to enter. Her luck must have all been used up if he was heading where she thought he would.

“Of all my rotten luck,” the grumble escaped under her breath as Petra watched over them in confusion. She turned around the boy and shoved the other door open, walking friskily away grabbing Dorothea before he could call out to her or something.

“I am sorry, Dorothea and I are late,” she told him plainly, clearly worried and couldn’t think of anything else to help. Ferdinand gaped at them as they ran off, he didn’t follow them, lowering his head and counting to ten before entering the building.

Dorothea looked back for a moment before feeling a squeeze on her wrist, “I’m sorry you had to see her, just an old acquaintance, that’s all,”

Petra wasn’t convinced, she didn’t pry as they made their way to the class they would get a brief orientation in. A girl squeaking in fright as they opened the door, bringing up the hood of her hoodie to hide and pressing herself to the wall. 

Dorothea and Petra gave her a solemn nod and a small hello, smiling as unthreatening-like as possible. The shy girl waved at them after what seemed like a long, forlorn minute and an incredible internal debate as she grimaced at a spot on the long bench desk. 

They chose to pick the spots at the end of the mousey girl’s bench desk, placing her things next to Petra’s, she asked her to keep an eye on it. There was still around half an hour before the freshman black eagle’s would be spoken to, after which they would join the other houses for the opening ceremony. The room was still sorely lacking students, there was only a sleepy looking boy, idly reading a book and his friend chattering away completely oblivious that he was being ignored. How cutely bubbly he was.

Dorothea giggled at the scene but she didn’t feel like giving Ferdinand enough time to recuperate and talk, they may have been young and foolish, however he knew her before she was sent to the orphanage and Dorothea couldn’t face her past just yet. She left nearly bumping into a broody, evil eyed boy who simply waved her apology away on her way out of the classroom.

The building happened to have a back entry, passing classes with all types of instruments and equipment hadn’t prepared her for the marvelous, lush garden astonishing the girl further she aimlessly walked around with her nose up in the air as she admired the trees, the birds, the clear blue sky. She felt her heart slow down from its thumping yet the calm Petra had instilled with her mere presence was now almost gone. She felt fidgety and annoyed. ‘Gotta vent, vent, vent!’

Dorothea luckily found a small opening leading to a secluded area, an old garden table and bench greeted her, fenced in by a tall wooden structure painted white. It would be such a lovely place for a tea party. 

Looking a little bit around, just making sure she heard absolutely no footsteps and saw no signs of being disturbed, she took a seat on the bench, heaved the biggest breath and made herself comfortable. 

The first step was her usual pre performance breathing exercise she practiced in order to prepare her nerves, steel them. She would usually warm up too, there wasn’t time for it. Instead Dorothea slowly began to hum a tune, when she was certain her vocal chords were amply ready, she moved to song. 

The song was an old one, a classic her mother used to sing it every now and then, however it was Manuela that taught her the words and the tune should play out properly. She loved it to bits even if it wasn’t modern. It was her secret song to give her courage from the two women that raised her. 

Every note she practiced to near perfection, it was also the first song she performed in the opera house and it got her the first part time job of her life and later on the part of her resume that obtained the place in such a prestigious school. Though she didn’t know at the time.

The Mystical songstress, as she was known in Mittelfrank, didn’t manage to sing the song to completion. The sound of a branch crunching under the pressure of a boot made her stiffen and mess up the chorus leading to the final verses.

“Ah, how vexing!” a voice growled, a girl of about her age, perhaps a tad younger came out of her hiding place behind the large tree. “I really wanted to hear the grande finale of this performance, although this branch may seem a little rude to interrupt when I was trying to get nearer,”

A white haired beauty with an easy smile and an intelligent twinkle in beautiful, lilac eyes smiled gently to the flustered songstress. She seemed to sense Dorothea’s frozen shock wasn’t going to pass anytime soon so she prodded her out of her stupor as gently as possible, “Just to be clear, I was here first, enjoying a little of peace and solace, definitely was not eavesdropping or following you,”

The girl clicked her tongue, it sounded more like she was making an excuse for poor conduct than anything else, and the best thing to do would be steer away from this dangerous topic, “I’m Edelgard von Hresvelg, the new class leader for the Black Eagles of this years new intake,”

Dorothea felt hot shame spread throughout her limbs, she had all these preparations and warm ups planned before she took the stage for an audience that a private song was definitely not adequate for ears but her own in her mind, a spinning, chaotic mess of thoughts was occuring. ‘I can’t believe she heard me, ah, her name, I have to do something, say something? Think Dorothea, think!’

“I’m Dorothea,” she mumbled unintelligibly. Dorothea grimaced, clearing her throat, straightening her posture and raising her voice so she could try again lest the girl thought her some silly, awkward girl. Putting the mask of the confident, pretty girl back on, “Dorothea Arnault, How do you do?”

_ ‘Wow, that sounded stiff but it’ll do...wait, Hresvelg? that ...sounds familiar? _ ’ she tilted her head, scanning the girl’s face for anything that could jog her memory. She was sure she never met the girl but had definitely heard of her family name.

“Hmm,” Edelgard seemed a little taken aback by her response and the way she was staring. She seemed to be expecting more than a quiet reply that she was offered, her expression softened and turned unexpectedly pleased. Dorothea’s hitched breath came back to her in a more relaxed fashion, finally breathing in and relaxing.

“Should I be jumping in joy?” she teased, finding her ground again and taking the opportunity to gain a little edge herself from the sad first impression she must’ve made.

Edelgard laughed, a harmonious sound the likes of which she never heard. It didn’t crack or rasp, Dorothea wondered if she was always so in control of her every action. Edelgard shrugged, “Usually my father’s fame precedes my own...earned fruits of toil,”

‘Father?’ Now,  _ that _ rang a bell however Dorothea couldn’t quite pin the little fuzzy memory down enough to bring it up from the back of her mind. She did recall seeing it quite recently and habitually raised the letter endorsed to her name. _ ‘Ah, i left it in class with my bag,’ _

“I know you’re my...class leader?” she offered certain it had been a name she had seen on the letter but that her memory wasn’t jogged because of that, besides the girl had also said so herself.

“Yes, though to be clear, my father is  _ that _ Hrevelg, from that famous band - if it ever comes up, I’d rather I put it out in the open myself,” she adds cheekily, a happy smile as she reached for something behind the tree. That something being a guitar case. “It doesn’t mean I need any special treatments or that i might give it, you...won’t need to worry though, your voice alone has a charm... that's envious,”

“Oh!” Dorothea’s eyes widened and quickly tried to cover up her reaction. She  _ did _ know that name, everybody in the musical industry knew him as one of the most successful musicians of all time, rivaled only by a few such as The Knights of Seiros led by Jeralt Eisner. Edelgard’s father was a star among stars, his band had more albums, tour, merch sold out rather than not. Having his daughter in class was an advantage to most and a discouragement to the weak hearted Dorothea. What competition awaited her. 

She meekly replied, “You flatter me,”

“Believe me when I say, you’ll get to know me soon and I am a person that does not give undue compliments,” Edelgard said in a stern, icy voice looking beyond Dorothea, spacing out for a moment. “Besides, the way you wove emotions into your songs, I can never compare,”

Dorothea felt her cheeks gain back the heat they lost, this time it was her turn to be cheeky, “I…Thank you, I hope to show you an even lovelier performance next time.” 

She had an idea disliking the current awkwardness she was displaying, so she winked to emphasize her invitation catching her new friend off guard. 

The girl seemed surprised at her sudden forwardness, it was difficult to tell, she was very guarded and it made Dorothea ever so curious that she put her hands behind her back, leaned forward and put on her very best 'eye candy smile’ - as the boys would call her back in her town’s school. “I’ll knock your breath right out,”

“I am sure you won’t disappoint, in fact I hope we can perhaps...arrange a duet between the two of us,” Edelgard groaned, thinking about her own flaws was never amusing for her, “I must admit, I love music, and I have an ear for it however my...vocal skills are rather lacking.” She crossed her arms looking rather gloomy, “I can easily replicate a tune, or song, but I sound rather...bleak,”

Dorothea seemed rather surprised at the confession. It did bring Edelgard as more down to earth, lowering her from the pedestal she was ready to put the child of a famous artist on. Dorothea wondered if she had planned on this, “Oh, Edie, it’ll be a pleasure,”

“Edie?” the girl repeated shocked, scrunching up her nose at the nickname.

“You don’t mind I call you that right?” she chirped, clapping her hands happily, the day was definitely taking a turn for the better, “Since we’ll be classmates and all, we’re definitely friends in my book already!”

Edelgard seemed to mull over her declaration, as if finding the words of friendship strange and foreign. It was rather cute how her brow furrowed in the serious way she was brooding over the affair. At last, she heaved a quiet sigh and nodded, her hand offered in a sign of camaraderie, “Looking forward to working with you,”

Dorothea suppressed a snort, clearly annoying the more guarded Edelagard, who blushed dearly.

“I never really had a lot of friends,” she explained, rubbing her nape awkwardly, “I may not be good at it,”

“It’s not a job so relax, and truthfully, me neither,” she confessed quietly.Dorothea might have made her first good friend outside of the orphanage just that morning. This fact got Edelgard to loosen up a little so it was worth being a little bit honest sometimes, the way her eyes were batting in amazement at her words told her she did salvage a good impression in the end, “So let’s do our best, alright? You mentioned a duet?”

Dorothea clasped the gloved hand offered in both of hers shaking vigorously, too enthusiastic for Edelgard not to chuckle at the childish, overly friendly display.

“Yes, I did, didn’t I? Let’s survive this orientation so we can talk about it later in my dorm room?” she offered, smiling triumphantly. Edelgard pulled her along toward the Black Eagles building, tapping her watch, “We don’t want to be late,”

“It’s a date,” Dorothea sings, skipping after her class leader so they could make their way back to their classroom. Maybe, she really did belong after all, if someone like Edie wanted her. The thought gave her a little more courage to face those rich, pompous bullies she imagined. 

Her class seemed to be turning out to be a rather interesting bunch at least and she hoped the rest of the students would turn out to be just as curious. 

There would be a little hiccups to get over, Ferdinand might be a headache she wasn’t ready to confront, however she puffed out her chest, held her head high and prepared for her new school life. The battle for her spotlight in the musical war grounds had just begun! And Dorothea Arnault was ready to fight and grab her chance to refine her music, amaze the world with it and maybe give a little frightened child out there the same hope she had been bestowed by the art. 

_ ‘My music is my dream, and my dream  will  be my future, I know it!’ _


End file.
